


Afterlife

by hereliesnils



Category: Red Dwarf (UK TV)
Genre: Dialogue Heavy, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, M/M, why can't i write anything happy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-06
Updated: 2020-02-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:41:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22591927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hereliesnils/pseuds/hereliesnils
Summary: Lister and Rimmer have a tough conversation.
Relationships: Dave Lister/Arnold Rimmer
Comments: 7
Kudos: 69





	Afterlife

Rimmer lay in bed. He could hear the Cat, yowling, Lister, soothing, and Kryten, flustered, then the sound of footsteps approaching. 

Lister rounded the corner into the room and ordered the door to close behind him. The sound from outside was replaced by the undoing of many zips and the thud of two boots hitting the ground.

“The Cat found a grey hair,” Lister said. 

“Will he ever recover?” Rimmer said. He lifted one arm and felt skin against his not-really-skin as Lister nestled close and splayed a hand on his chest. Rimmer let his arm drop around Lister's shoulders. 

They had procured an officer's room with a double bed not long after _this_ started. It turned out that squeezing into a bunk was only thrilling for the first few _goes_ before it became apparent that sleeping under, on and, around each other in such a small space was pretty uncomfortable. Now, they slept under, on, and around each other in a much bigger space, and Rimmer sometimes felt that maybe, just maybe, if he had someone to tell he would tell them that with pride. 

“He's just worrying about getting old,” Lister said into Rimmer's neck.

“No he isn't, he's being vain.”

“I'm going grey too.”

“I know, try not to.”

A laugh hitched in Lister's throat. Affection, even barbed affection, from Rimmer still tickled him. 

“I can't help it, I'll be an old man before you know it.”

Rimmer's hand closed around his shoulder. Lister took it as a cue to delve deeper. 

“You'll be okay, won't you, when I die?”

“Oh for crying out loud, Listy, your pillow talk really needs some work.”

“I'm serious! It's going to happen one day, or any day, we don't exactly lead a safe and cosy life out here.”

“This is pretty cosy.”

“I'll give you that. Answer me question.”

“No I will not be okay,” Rimmer said, “I'll have Kryten turn me off immediately. Him and the Cat can choose a replacement from the rest of the crew.”

“You don't mean that.”

“I do. End of conversation.”

“But-”

“No.”

Lister sighed. 

“Do you think there's more? When we die?” he said “That we have souls that go somewhere else, to a better place?”

“Do you?”

“Yeah. Yeah I do. I don't know why I, y'know, believe,” his voice dropped lower on that last word, “I'm not religious or nothing but it feels like there has to be.” 

“You sound like Kryten droning on about Silicone Heaven.”

“We talked about it once. He said Human Heaven was made up to stop us all from going nuts.”

There was no answer. Lister raised himself up on his elbow to take in the shape of Rimmer's silhouette in the dark, all slopes and curls and the great peak of his nose pointing at the ceiling.

“What do you think?” 

“Well, I must say it's a head scratcher, Listy,” Rimmer said, “if there is an afterlife I'm already there, aren't I?”

“This isn't your afterlife, smeghead, I meant-” Lister was already mid-sentence when it dawned on him.

“I whizzed off there the very moment I was turned into washing power,” Rimmer carried on, “it's that version of me sat up there strumming a harp, or sat down there having my tonsils ripped out everyday by a great big-”

He stopped at the sound of Lister exhaling, long and deep with an unmistakable shudder. 

“What?”

“Don't you think that's sad? That the eternal version of you won't remember everything between then and now?” Lister said, “that's so unfair.”

He watched the outline of Rimmer's Adam's apple bob up and down once before he continued. 

“You've done so much, you've seen so much, and you're better for it, man, we're better for it. And it means that when I arrive up there, and it will be _up_ don't you dare, I'll come and find you but you'll just see me as some slob who drove you up the wall.”

“I still see you as-”

“Not now, Arn! I'm spewing my guts here!”

There was a long silence. Rimmer floundered. They had insulted and bickered their way through years and years together and it was hard to tell if he had gone too far now the line was closer and wobblier with little hearts doodled around it. He had no frame of reference, nothing to tell him where this fell on the scale from tiff to world-shattering argument. 

Reassurance arrived in the form of Lister's body shifting closer, arms curling around Rimmer's torso, face resting in the crook of his neck, where he liked it. 

“People always talk-” Rimmer said, “ _talked_ about dead people looking down on them. Maybe I'm watching all of this.”

“I hope so. I really hope so.”

“So do I.”


End file.
